


The Final Hours

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25842001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: Falling in love with a notorious ladies man was always a terrible idea, but you had thought maybe you meant something to him. His actions lead you to believe otherwise.
Relationships: Napoleon x Reader
Kudos: 10





	The Final Hours

The room was blanketed in a thick silence, which only emphasized the volume of the voices in your head. In the darkness, you shifted beneath the sumptuous blankets, your eyes scrunched tight in an effort to focus on anything but the memory of a few hours ago. The image of Gaby’s expression of pity swam in the forefront on your mind. The way Illya had shifted uncomfortably before hurriedly trying to silence the sounds transmitting loud and clear from Napoleons room had the heat of shame crawling over you. The unmistakable sounds of sex, the little grunts you had thought were just for you, the hitch of his breath which indicated he was getting close to release, had filled the room. Those sounds which had been so private, so personal now made your skin clammy, your chest constrict. It was a mission. It was his job. You tried to reason with yourself that it was just something he had to do, but the feeling of betrayal ran much deeper. 

The light click of the door lock made you freeze. Had he really come to your bed from hers? Concentrating on keeping your breathing level, you pretended to sleep. If he didn’t say anything then he couldn’t lie to you. He had clearly enjoyed himself, you’d heard enough to confirm that. Torturing yourself with questions you would never ask, such as ‘was she better?’, ‘did she give you something I don’t?’, was doing nothing to help your pretense.

Napoleon toed off his shoes and stood in the doorway for a moment, watching your sleeping form as guilt ate away at him. This was unfamiliar territory. He had done what he needed to in order to keep cover, something he had done a hundred times before, only this time it had left him feeling hollow and disgusted with himself. He had taken a scalding hot shower, trying to scrub away this feeling, this self-loathing. He was only thankful you did not know what he had done. He would tell you, he couldn’t keep secrets if the two of you were going to work out, but he would have this one last night with you before he pressed that red button, before the hurt and pain and anger replaced the soft adoration in your eyes. 

The mattress dipped as he sat beside you, reaching over to move a strand of hair that had fallen across your face. In the gloom, he couldn’t see the redness around your eyes, the tracks of your tears. He only saw the outline of the most beautiful woman he had ever loved. Moving to climb into the bed beside you, he wrapped his arm around your waist, closing his eyes as he took in the scent of your shampoo, his body molding perfectly against yours as if you belonged together. 

It took everything within you not to move away. He smelled of the hotel body wash, so at least he’d had the courtesy of washing away the smell of sex before sliding into your bed. Tears silently began to make their way down your cheeks once more. Things had changed so monumentally in the last twelve hours and you wanted to scream, to rage, to hurt him, but you didn’t have the energy for that right now. The morning would come soon enough and then you would do what was right, you would give up this ridiculous idea that he could ever love you. You would leave once the mission was done and he would find someone else to warm his bed. Several someone’s probably. 

He knew something was wrong when he woke up to an empty bed. Even if you woke first, you would stay snuggled in his embrace until the pair of you could no longer justify staying in the warmth of the sheets and had to begin your day. A deep pit began to grow in his stomach, twisting in knots, leaving a feeling of nausea. Sitting up, he glanced towards the bathroom in case your absence was merely momentary, but the open door left him under no illusion. Picking up his robe, he pulled it over his shoulders as he padded into the lounge, relieved to see you sitting there. 

“Good morning.” He grinned, before he saw the look in your eyes and his whole world seemed to implode. 

“This isn’t working Leon.” There was a calm in your voice that terrified him. He didn’t open up to people, didn’t let them in because that meant giving someone the power to make him feel like he did right in this moment. He stood there paralysed, unable to say a single word. “I need to go. I need to be alone for a while.”

What he wanted to say was ‘stay’. There was no need for you to go, that he could give you the space you needed for whatever this was within your relationship. He wanted to tell you that he knew he wasn’t perfect, that he needed to learn how to be better, needed to learn how to make a relationship work but he so desperately wanted to. He wanted to learn to grow with you, not separately. Napoleon didn’t know who you would become, but he knew he wanted to go on that journey together.

You looked over at him, his silence only confirming to you that this was the right decision, that he didn’t really care. This whole situation had become too complicated for him, you wanted things from him that he simply couldn’t give. You didn’t want to leave, but you had no reason to stay. You couldn’t make someone love you, that’s not how it worked. You had known what sort of man he was when you first fell into bed with him and you also knew that you couldn’t change him, so it was unfair to expect more. 

He watched you get to your feet and walk to the door. Time seemed to stretch out as you crossed the room, giving him time to stop you, but his feet were rooted to the spot even as his heart crumbled in his chest. This was it. This was the moment and he needed to tell you, needed to say those three words that he had been keeping back. The room span and his lungs screamed for oxygen. Taking a deep breath, Napoleon’s voice came out in a broken sigh. 

“I love you.”

The sound of the door closing eclipsed his words and the world seemed to rush back in as he sank down to the floor. He had made himself vulnerable and you had crushed him. He had no idea what had happened, you had been so happy yesterday. Realisation hit him like a bucket of cold water. You must know about Victoria. He had fucked things up so badly and he didn’t know how to fix this, to bring you back. As he sat on the cool wooden floor, he wondered if this was for the best. He couldn’t risk being this exposed, you made him weak, and there was nothing he could do to win you back anyway, so why keep putting himself out there for you? The cold logic of his thoughts were in direct contrast to the warm tears that were streaming down his face. He had been a fool to think you could love a man like him. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.


End file.
